


Get Out Of My Dreams (And Into My TARDIS)

by mayaspice



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Romance, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayaspice/pseuds/mayaspice
Summary: Usually, humans jump at the opportunity to travel with him. So, he's puzzled as to why Rose Tyler doesn't. If she were any other human, he'd be on his merry way, but there's something about Rose that makes him believe the universe (and maybe he) needs her. He takes it upon himself to find out why she's apprehensive about being his companion, and tries to convince her otherwise.





	Get Out Of My Dreams (And Into My TARDIS)

The Doctor doesn’t like to make a habit of pleading. Desperation isn’t really his _thing_.

But when he meets Rose Tyler and offers her unlimited space travel and she turns him down, for the first time in a long time, he contemplates getting down on his knees. He’s thankful for the small remaining shred of Time Lord pride that keeps him on his feet.

“Maybe next time,” Rose says over her shoulder as she walks away, deeper into the estate. “If there is one.”

 

 

 

There is a next time because he makes sure of it.

When he opens the TARDIS door and steps out, his shins hit the coffee table in Rose’s front room. She’s there, on the settee, cuppa in hand, staring in wonder at the big blue box parked next to her telly.

There’s an older blonde next to her, hair pinned by pink hair rollers. She jumps up, thrusts her mug at the Doctor like a weapon. “Who the bloody hell are you!?”

 “Fancy another go?” he asks Rose.

“Excuse me, mister, you can’t just waltz in here and talk to my daughter like that!”

The woman’s got a short fuse, he learns quickly, and makes a mental note to tread lightly around her.

“It’s okay, Mum,” Rose says as she places a comforting hand on her mother’s shoulder. “He’s the bloke I was telling you about.”

Something inside him flutters.

“I’ll only be gone for a bit. Back this evening, Doctor?”

He wants to say it’s impossible. But Rose for the day is better than no Rose at all.

“Sure.”

Rose skips towards the Doctor and slips her hand in his. Suddenly, the ground feels very solid beneath his feet. It makes him dizzy.

 

 

 

Evening comes too soon and when it does the Doctor drops Rose off right outside her front door – it’s tricky business landing on the small balcony but he does it to show off, really – and feels that flutter from earlier melt to nothing when she turns down his offer again.

“Can we just do trips… I don’t know, every now and then?”

He never imagined how difficult it would be to speak one word. “Okay.”

 _Sooner or later_ , he thinks, _I’m going to figure her out._

 

 

 

They set up a sort of schedule – well, as scheduled as time can be – and although the Doctor wishes she’d come with him on all his adventures, he settles for their weekly-ish meetings.

Every time she steps through the TARDIS threshold, he finds himself working to the very limits of his abilities, taking her to the biggest and best places in existence. He’s trying to impress her – it’s quite pitiful really, like a male peacock pluming his feathers or a teenage boy racer revving his engine at a red light – and when they land, he has to physically refrain from patting himself on the back when he catches her staring, awestruck, at the planet before them.

In the midst of danger and excitement and beauty and moral conundrum, he reminds her of his offer. She still declines.

He thinks it’s because she’s scared (oh, how wrong he is).

 

 

 

Usually, if he’s met with this much apprehension, he stops trying. At least, he assumes he would. He’s never actually encountered anyone that doesn’t jump at the opportunity to travel with him. Except he recognises the glint of hope in Rose’s eye, the promise that somewhere there’s another life for her; a better one. He sees her potential for universal goodness like it’s something she carries in her hands.

In another attempt to convince her to stay permanently – or at least semi-permanent, since we’re all just fleeting bags of bones and blood and flesh on a gravitationally suspended spinning sphere – he gives her a sample of what to expect.

They visit Pakaro during the festival of light, and together, on the banks of red grass overlooking the celebrations, they watch as translucent-skinned performers swallow flames and dance.

The Doctor admires the fire flickering and fading against the blackness of Rose’s pupils. He wants to watch the reflection of every planet throughout all of time and space in her eyes.

 

 

 

Rose is second in line at the Post Office when the Doctor taps her on the shoulder.

“Doctor? I only saw you two days ago.”

He gives her this look that silently says _now_.

“Oh, give me a sec.” She nods at the counter clerk and pouts. “I’ve been queueing for 15 minutes and I’m next in line!”

He leads her out of the shop, parcel still in hand, to teach her that sometimes travelling with him is inopportune. He takes her to a war-torn galaxy where they save thousands of refugee families to show that others’ needs outweigh their own minor inconveniences.

 

 

 

He shows her more death and destruction because travelling with him involves a lot of it. She handles it well; offering comfort and support to grieving strangers.

She lingers a little longer than usual when they land back on Earth after a particularly affecting journey. It’s quiet in the TARDIS, just the gentle hum of the engine, and Rose is looking at him in thought. She croaks something about travelling being both heart-breaking and wonderful, and he can tell that he’s slowly demolishing the barriers inside of her.

He doesn’t ask her again because it’s not the right time.

 

 

 

 _One more trip’ll do the job_ , he thinks.

That’s why he takes her to Tennessee in 1954. There, in a small side street of Memphis, they run into a lanky, shy boy with a guitar.

If she’s told him once, she’s told him a thousand times how much she loves Elvis.

(When they were trapped in a broom cupboard of a burning satellite and death seemed unavoidable, Wooden Heart played through the crackled sound system and Rose laughed as if to herself.

“He’s Mum’s favourite, see, she used to play him all the time, so naturally he became mine too. Girls in my class had lipstick-stained posters of Justin Timberlake and Westlife plastered all over their walls. And there was me. Treasuring these crumpled black and white photos of Elvis.”

She stared far off, romantic-like, at nothing. The Doctor decided then and there that even if he was riddled with pain and suffering, even if she was old and withered, even if it was the last thing he did, he would get her to Elvis.)

She’s completely starstruck when she meets him – and he’s pretty speechless too, staring down into the twinkling eyes of a beautiful, blonde, British girl who knows the lyrics to songs he hasn't even finished yet – and the Doctor is certain then that he’s done it; he’s conquered the feat and Rose will agree to be his companion before the night is up.

But when they return to the TARDIS, Rose makes a show of stretching and yawning, tapping her palm against the console with a, “Home, James!”

The shaking around them eventually subsides when they settle on the pavement of the Powell estate. Rose slings her jacket over her shoulder, presses a kiss to the Doctor’s cheek and goes to leave.

She’s already opened the door when he finally asks.

“What is it, eh?”

“What’s what, Doctor?”

“I’ve shown you everything. Everything you could ever dream of. And you still don’t want to stay.”

Rose’s tongue sinks between her teeth. She looks like she’s holding onto a secret.

“Do you really want to know?”

He nods.

“It’s you, Doctor.” She pauses for what seems like an allotted time for a Time Lord-outburst, and when it doesn’t come, she continues. “I love everywhere we’ve been and I’m grateful for everything I’ve learned from you. But I’ve heard what people call me: the damsel in distress, the tag along, the companion. I don’t want to be that. I want to help you. Play a role in saving people, not just stand next to you while you do it.” She bites her lip and her words are whispered, as though to say them would set an almighty curse. “And I don’t think you can ever let that bit of control go.”

Her fingers are turning pink as they grip into the wood, waiting, wishing for his compromise. He scratches his ear. She smiles sadly.

“Goodbye, Doctor.”

The TARDIS door squeaks closed.

And he’s all alone again.

 

 

 

It’s in a cold, damp cave on some white and silent planet, lightyears away from the only person he wants to be with, when he realises that Rose has taught him things too.

Love, laughter, adaptation, glass-half-full attitude, Cockney rhyming slang, and it becomes painfully clear that there’s this sound in his head like the second hand of a watch, echoing around his skull, taunting, teasing, the sound of a thousand cries, a thousand people he could’ve saved, ticking, ticking, always ticking, and he’s only noticed it now because when he’s with Rose the sound dulls. He remembers the weight of her hand in his and how it reminds him it’s okay that he can’t fix everything.

When he escapes the snow-capped mountains in the Oxelayan galaxy, he sets the TARDIS coordinates for South East London.

 

 

 

Rose accepts his (wordless) apology and says her own (wordless) thank you with the threading of her fingers with his.

He wants to see what she can do with her natural instincts and what he’s taught her already, so he lands them on a rocket strapped with a billion nuclear bombs hurtling towards Earth.

The Doctor works out how to stop the explosives within 8 minutes of their arrival but he bites his tongue every now and then (intelligence is both a blessing and a curse) and before 30 minutes has passed, Rose enforces a system override, dispersing a chemical balance that diffuses the bombs and steers the rocket off Earth-course, and all without losing a single life.

It’s Rose Tyler who saves the world this time.

In the evening, the Doctor takes Rose back to her flat. It’s only a flying visit though, so that she can pack her bags and say a proper goodbye to her mother.


End file.
